


The Peanut Butter to My Jelly

by kfantastique



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Big Brother Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes’s Trauma, Klutz Clint Barton, Little Sister Kate Bishop, M/M, Omega Clint Barton, Protective Steve Rogers, Red Room Bucky Barnes, Red Room Natasha Romanov, Tattooed Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-20 09:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15530964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kfantastique/pseuds/kfantastique
Summary: Winterhawk shorts that I had nowhere else to put or couldn’t be bothered to write a whole fic for





	1. Birthday Present

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy my collection of little nonsenses! Let me know what you think!

Steve sighed a heavy breath out his nose and looked at his watch for the fourth time. It was twenty minutes after when Bucky’d said he’d meet Steve in the kitchen for cake and to open his birthday present.

Not that he thought anything was wrong, because Friday would’ve alerted him if something was, but Steve was starting to feel unsettled the longer he waited. Even after fifteen months, Steve still found it hard to not be stuck to Bucky’s side even though he knew he was being annoying. He couldn’t help it though; he still had nightmares about Bucky falling from that train…

A throat clearing interrupted his train of thought. He looked up to see Natasha surveying him from over her tablet across the counter and he gave her a weak smile.

“He probably just let time get away from him,” she told him kindly. “I’m sure nothing’s wrong, but if it’ll make you feel better, you should just go get him.”

Steve slumped in relief and pushed his stool back from the counter. “I’ll be right back,” he told her appreciatively. Natasha just nodded and continued to flick through her tablet.

Steve got in the elevator and pushed the button for the guest floor that Bucky had been staying on since he’d moved out of Steve’s spare room. Maybe he got distracted binge watching one of those dumb shows that he and Clint liked so much? Was it Dog Detectives or something?

Steve shook his head fondly as he pushed the door open to Bucky’s living room/kitchen. But it was empty. Huh. Steve frowned and made his way over to the closed bedroom door. Maybe Bucky had fallen asleep?

Halfway across the room, Steve heard a strangled groan from behind the door and jumped into action. What if Bucky was having a nightmare? Or what if he was having a flashback of being the Winter Soldier? What if he’d hurt himself? Or what if…

Steve slammed the door open and was unable to immediately process what he was seeing. His whole body froze and he just stared at the scene in front of him uncomprehendingly while his hand slowly disfigured the doorknob.

Bucky was reclined on his bed resting on his elbows with his sweatpants tangled around one ankle and Clint Barton kneeling between his knees with one hand around Bucky’s dick. Both men were giving him unimpressed looks.

“I… what?” he sputtered. “What are you… What the hell?”

Bucky looked to the ceiling in a give-me-strength kind of way. “Jesus, punk, you couldn’t’a given me five more minutes?”

Clint chuckled and pressed his face into Bucky’s thigh. “We made Captain America swear!”

Steve belatedly averted his eyes. “I’ll just… I have to go.” He felt his face turning bright red and turned to leave. “Sorry,” he threw out over his shoulder as the door closed. 

“Just let me finish getting my birthday present and I’ll come upstairs!” Steve heard Bucky yell as he all but ran from the apartment.

Steve pressed his hand over his face, willing his brain to delete the entire confrontation. As he rode the elevator back up to the kitchen though, he started to smile. Unexpected as it was, a relationship like this was probably an indicator of how far Bucky had come. If he could trust himself like that around someone else, Steve should probably start trusting Bucky to be able to take care of himself too.

Steve stepped off the elevator with a lighter heart and walked into the kitchen to see Natasha still sitting there. She looked up and raised her eyebrow.

“The jerk is fine,” Steve told her amusedly. “He was just… distracted.” He could feel his face go a little red again.

Natasha rolled her eyes and smiled a tiny smile. “Were he and Clint fucking on his couch again?”

Steve choked on nothing and glared at her as he coughed. “You knew?!” he accused as soon as he could breathe.

She shrugged and reached over to remove the lid from the cake’s box. “They’ve been all over each other for a few weeks now,” she told him. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice, honestly.” He pursed his lips and glared at her again. She just winked and got two forks from a drawer. “Now let’s eat Bucky’s cake for making us wait for no good reason.” She grinned as she handed him a fork and he had to smile back.


	2. Archery Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to get a longer fic out of this one but it just wasn’t happening... anyway, Kate is Bucky’s little sister and Clint is her archery coach

Bucky sighed as he slumped in the uncomfortable folding chair provided by the range. He would rather be anywhere than babysitting his preteen sister at archery practice. But his mom had guilted him into taking Kate earlier that week and now he was seriously regretting agreeing. He was sweating in the heat in a field in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone service. It literally couldn’t get any worse.

He let his gaze slide in and out of focus as he watched Kate unpack her bow and quiver and strap on her guards. Hopefully this wouldn’t take more than the promised 45 minutes.

His attention was attracted when he heard someone call Kate’s name behind him. He turned lazily just in time to see a blond guy in the process of stepping on his own shoelace and flailing wildly as he pitched forward onto his face.

Bucky slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh as Kate yelled, “Clint!” and started running towards the guy.

Bucky hauled himself up out of his chair and hurried over while still trying not to laugh. Kate knelt next to the guy and nudged his shoulder. “Clint, you idiot, are you ok?” she asked. Bucky came to a stop on the guy’s other side as he rolled onto his back. There was blood on his lip and he looked grouchy.

“I’m…” his eyes went wide as he caught sight of Bucky smiling down at him. “Hot.” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I mean, you’re hot,” the guy continued hurriedly and winced. “I mean, fine. I’m fine.”

Kate scoffed and gave Bucky an unimpressed look. “Idiot,” she muttered and then stalked away.

There was an adorable blush spreading across the guy’s freckled cheekbones though so Bucky let her go. “Need a hand?” he asked the guy -Clint apparently- and stretched down his left arm so his tattoos were on display (he liked to show them off, so sue him).

Clint’s eyes travelled appreciatively up Bucky’s bicep to his face and he smiled shyly. “Thanks,” he said and gripped Bucky’s hand to haul himself up. 

Clint’s hand was warm and callused (presumably from archery) and Bucky held onto it a beat too long before letting go and stepping back. Clint smiled at him, lighting up his whole face, and as he turned towards Kate, Bucky found himself saying, “You’re pretty hot yourself.”

Clint’s head jerked back around in surprise. “I’m Bucky,” Bucky told him with a smirk. “Katie’s brother. Nice to meetcha.” Then he winked and Clint beamed at him.

“Clint,” Clint said, “and believe me, the pleasure’s all mine.” He raked his eyes up and down Bucky’s body. “I gotta thing,” he jerked his head back at Kate. “But, maybe after…?”

Bucky grinned. “I could hang around awhile.”

“You’d better!” Kate yelled at him from the end of her shooting lane. “You’re driving me home! Now could you idiots quit gazing into each other’s eyes sometime this century so I can practice?”

Bucky and Clint both laughed and Bucky sank back into his chair as Clint jogged over to Kate. Maybe sitting through Kate’s practice wasn’t going to be the worst thing in the world. Especially now that Bucky noticed how great Clint’s ass looked from behind.


	3. Nightmares Come for Us All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a small piece of a monster that I started a while ago and may or may not finish. Motivation is hard, y’all... anyway this is one of my favorite scenes.

Clint jerked to wakefulness as a hand clenched suddenly around his wrist. He rubbed his face where it had been pressed into Bucky’s shoulder with his free hand and blinked blearily up at Bucky. Who whimpered. And there were tears streaming from beneath his closed eyelids. Aw, nightmares, no. Clint reached over to wipe the tears from Bucky’s cheek with his thumb.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hey, Bucky.” He continued stroking his thumb across Bucky’s cheek. “Wake up, baby.” He flinched at his casual slip of the endearment. “It’s just a nightmare. You’re fine; just wake up.”

Bucky bolted upright with a sob. “Natalia!” he choked out past his tears. His grip on Clint’s wrist was reaching painful levels and he was panting heavily.

Clint moved his hand to pat the fingers gripping his wrist. “Bucky, it’s fine. Whatever you were seeing, it was a dream. You’re here in the tower and you’re safe.”

Bucky looked around at him frantically. “Natalia,” he sobbed. “ _Mne tak zhal’. Pozhaluysta, prosti menya_.” He was looking at Clint but his gaze was distant and Clint suspected Bucky wasn’t actually looking at him at all. And the Russian was… worrying.

Clint brushed a long strand of sleep-mussed hair behind his ear. “C’m on Bucky. Everything is fine. Come back to me.”

Bucky blinked at him and more tears slid down his face. “ _Natalia, pozhaluysta_ ,” he implored Clint. And Clint knew enough Russian to know please. Although why he’d be asking for Nat, Clint didn’t know.

”Yeah, ok,” he sighed. “Ok, come on. I’ll take you to Nat.” He went to get up from the couch and Bucky followed him immediately, not relinquishing his grip on Clint’s wrist. Clint looked up at his anxious tear-stained face and felt his heart twist painfully. He screwed his own face up into a semblance of a smile and said gently, “I don’t have any serum; my wrist is going to need a breather.”

Bucky stared pitifully at him and Clint cocked his head. After a breath in and out, Bucky released him but still clung desperately to the cuff of Clint’s sleeve. Clint looked down at the clenched flesh-and-blood fingers tangled in his cuff and his heart twisted again. Ok, this was fine.

“Uh, JARVIS?” He glanced up at the ceiling. “ Could you wake Natasha please and let her know we’re coming to see her?”

“Of course, Agent Barton.” JARVIS replied. “I have brought the elevator up for you as well.”

“Thanks, J.” He maneuvered himself around Bucky to lead him to the elevator.

“Of course, sir.”

The doors closed behind them and the elevator descended without prompting. Clint watched Bucky’s face as they rode the elevator and then walked down the corridor. He looked absolutely anguished and Clint wanted to scoop him up in his arms and hold him until he forgot the nightmare. But Clint was pretty sure that somewhat overstepped the bounds of their friendship.

He sighed and knocked on Tasha’s door. She opened it almost immediately wearing a robe over her pajamas and opened her mouth to presumably ask Clint what the hell they were doing when Bucky dropped to his knees with another sob. The micro expression on her face was momentarily taken aback before Bucky took her fingers delicately with the metal hand and pressed them to his forehead. He started mumbling in Russian, almost pleading, and Clint felt like he was intruding on something private as Tasha smiled sadly down at him.

Clint would’ve turned around and left but for Bucky’s other hand still fisted in the fabric of his jacket. He looked away from Bucky to try to keep his heart from breaking and he met Tasha’s gaze. He made a _what_ face at her. She made a _hang on_ face back at him and looked back to Bucky who was still choking out quiet Russian around intermittent sobs.

She gently disentangled her fingers and swept them down Bucky’s face to cup his cheek and turn his eyes up. “ _Vse normal’no. Pozhaluysta, davay zaydem vnutr’,_ ” she looked up at Clint and nodded her head behind her in an invitation to follow her. As Bucky stood up to go inside, he didn’t release Clint’s sleeve so he figured he was all in on whatever this was.

Once inside, Nat guided Bucky to her couch and sat him down with Clint trailing along behind. She brought Bucky a glass of water and sat down on his other side. She wiped the tears from his face and tucked his hair behind his ears. “ _Slushat_ ’, Bucky.” He looked up at her, still so anguished that Clint wanted to look away but couldn’t. “I know sweetie, I know.” She stroked his cheek again and Clint was a little baffled at how gentle she was being. “I need you to use English though. Snap out of this.”

Bucky blinked at her for a moment and shook his head as if to clear it. “Natalia?” She gave a tiny smile and nodded. Bucky let out another choked sob. “Natalia, I am so sorry. For what I did to you; for what I let those bastards do to you. I don’t… I can’t… I should have done something.” He covered his face with the metal hand as tears streamed down from his red rimmed eyes.

Clint had to tear his eyes away from Bucky as they started to well up and Nat was murmuring, “No. No, baby. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t you.” She looked up at Clint with a grim expression. He tried to raise an eyebrow at her and wasn’t sure he was completely successful but she understood. As she smoothed a hand over Bucky’s hair, she said, “He was there in the Red Room. I never knew if he remembered.”

Clint felt sucker punched. Nat never talked about the Red Room. Not after that first time right after he’d brought her in. He knew of all the atrocities those Russian assholes had put all of those little girls through and he was constantly surprised that Nat could keep herself together and not just fall to pieces. He’d always admired that strength about her.

“Tasha, he didn’t… He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he asked he and he could feel Bucky’s fist tighten around his sleeve. She shot him a tiny rueful smile.

“He wasn’t like that. They brought him in to train us in combat.” She continued petting his hair. “He was never cruel despite some of the things they ordered him to do.”

Bucky made a choked sound. “I should have stopped it.” His voice was rough and strained. “I should have done something. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush,” Natasha told him gently. “It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could have done.”

Bucky shook his head. “But I can’t… I don’t…”

She took his face in both hands to look him in the eyes and Clint felt like an intruder yet again. “ _Ya proshchayu tebya_.” Bucky buried his face in Natasha’s shoulder and inadvertently tugged Clint along with him so they were all kind of cuddled in a pile on the couch. Clint was pressed up against Bucky’s side which was kind of where he’d wanted to be since Bucky’d woken up so he didn’t attempt to extract himself, just adjusted so he was more comfortably wrapped around Bucky. He reached his free right hand over Bucky to intertwine his fingers with Natasha’s free hand as she started humming softly and lulling both men back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian (as far as Google translate takes me):  
> Mne tak zhal’. Pozhaluysta, prosti menya.: I am so sorry. Please, forgive me.  
> Pozhaluysta: Please  
> Vse normal’no. Pozhaluysta, davay zaydem vnutr’.: it’s alright. Please, let’s go in.  
> Slushat: Listen  
> Ya proshchayu tebya: I forgive you


	4. Scent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My first time writing A/B/O verse. It's heavily hinged on pheremones.

Clint sighed and tipped his chair back from where his feet were propped up on the table. He was trying his hardest to focus on being calm and throwing off a soothing scent, but it seemed that Bucky was having a really tough day. No matter what Clint said to him or tried to smell like, he remained stoic and unresponsive, his eyes far away.

It had been a couple of months since Steve had dragged Bucky back to New York kicking and screaming and all but going out of his mind from withdrawal and overwhelming hormone activity. After what had seemed to Clint like hundreds of tests, Tony and Bruce had concluded that Hydra had kept the poor guy drugged up on hormone therapy to suppress his alpha nature, essentially making him an unnatural beta.

Clint shuddered slightly at the thought of it. Apparently his being an alpha had made it harder for them to make the Winter Soldier comply so they had decided to simply remove the obstacle. It made Clint’s thoughts slip back to Loki every time he thought about how unfair it was. Despite all the ‘progress’ his therapist had told him he’d made on his self-worth, he still couldn’t help but think that if he’d been an alpha, he could have resisted Loki.

He shook his head to clear away the intrusive thoughts and tried to focus on the task at hand. According to the medical-type people, Bucky’s transition back to full-fledged alpha could be eased somewhat by just scenting an omega. And, being the only omega on the team (and thus one of a very few omegas who could possibly not die if the Soldier somehow got loose), Clint had reluctantly acquiesced to let Bucky use his scent to ground himself, or get his mind right, or whatever.

And it did seem to help, mostly. In the first week, Bucky had been almost feral; snarling at anyone who came close and obviously agonizing over the pain of transition when no one was around. So Tony had set up a room for him. More or less Hulk-proof and comfortable enough but with one whole wall of spaceship-grade plexiglass so they could monitor him and make sure he didn’t hurt himself. And a complex ventilation system that would allow Clint’s scent to flow freely into the cell but could be shut off if someone else’s scent upset him too much.

The first couple of days, Bucky hadn’t seemed to respond to or even register Clint’s scent. But on the third day, when Clint got tired of just sitting on his ass and flipping through his tablet, he had gotten up to leave because he was obviously wasting his time, and Bucky had looked up at him from his catatonic state and said, “Wait.”

Bucky’s voice had been rough and unused but Clint hadn’t been able to ignore the plea in it. So he’d sat back down and waited. He made Tony bring him a tv, a game console, and an armchair down to Bucky’s room; he started talking to Bucky, telling him funny anecdotes about the villain of the week; he brought him stuff to read about Steve and the Howling Commandos. Clint did everything he could think of to help Bucky overcome the brainwashing and the withdrawal because he knew intimately what it was like to be unmade.

And Bucky slowly started to respond to him. When Clint got Tony to get him a wireless controller, Bucky had used it to play games with Clint. Clint sat the tv facing Bucky’s room and sat with his back to the plexiglass with Bucky just on the other side. Eventually, Clint started to engage Bucky in conversation and he found that the more he tried, the more Bucky responded. 

Steve had been pleased as punch when Bucky had started interacting with Clint and had even come down to see Bucky. With the ventilation system securely off, of course. (When Steve had first caught up with Bucky, his new alpha scent had nearly driven him mad, making him lash out.) Bucky had been reserved at first but relaxed eventually and they were building a tenuous sort of trust back up. It made Clint smile to see them interact when he was there.

And if he was there with Steve, he always made sure to shut off the ventilation. After the first time Steve had come down just a week since Bucky had been there, Clint had been flipping through his tablet while Bucky read and didn’t think anything of Steve being there until Bucky had flipped the fuck out at the other alpha’s scent. Bucky’s knuckles had bled all over the plexiglass door and Steve had felt guilty for a week. He’d calmed down eventually though, after Clint had spent all night next to Bucky’s room trying to exude calm.

It had been a month now since Bucky had had a violent outburst, though he still did withdraw into himself sometimes like he had now, and the team had been seriously discussing when to let him out. According to Steve, his alpha scent was almost back to what it had been in the forties, and with limited exposures, he wasn’t nearly as disturbed by other alphas’ scents anymore. And Bucky had become Clint’s friend over the months and he was eager to see him set free.

Clint jerked awake and his two front chair legs slammed back to the ground at the sound of the Assemble alarm coming from his tablet on the table. When had he fallen asleep? He scrubbed his hand over his face and got up. Bucky still looked detached but did at least look at Clint as he waved and said, “Be back soon,” as he hurried out the door.

It was the third time in two weeks that Doombots had attacked the stock exchange and Clint was pretty sure the whole team agreed with him that it was getting old. How on earth did Von Doom keep coming up with all these stupid robots? He ducked as one flew at him and let an arrow loose at another chasing Tony before whipping around to shoot the one he ducked. These things weren’t even that intelligent; it kinda felt like playing duck hunt.

“Hawkeye, incoming!” Tony yelled into his com and Clint whipped around just in time to see one of the airborne Doombot transports crash into the opposite side of the building that he was currently perched on. Fuck.

“Anybody want to give me a lift ASA fucking P?” he yelled as he leapt off the side of the building. The building next door was a couple stories shorter and he was aiming to land on the roof but he could already tell he’d shorted it.

“Two seconds!” he heard from Tony as Sam said, “I’m pinned down!”

Too late, Clint thought as he slammed into the side of the building. He felt his brain rattle around as his head thunked into the brick and he scrabbled to grab onto the edge of the roof with his fingertips. He barely managed it and closed his eyes tight against the dizziness as he hung there limp.

He blinked his eyes open to Cap screaming in his ear. “Hawkeye, status?!”

Clint glanced up at the roof ledge. “Hangin’ in there, Cap,” he said breathlessly. There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone on the coms.

“We’ll have someone at your position in a second,” Cap told him.

“Right,” Clint muttered back. If he could just lift himself enough to scramble up to the roof… As he strained to lift his weight, he suddenly blacked out.

Ah, fuck. Concussion, he thought as he came back awake seconds later as he plummeted through the air. “Help!” Clint yelped as he windmilled his arms and tried to get a look at anything below him to land on that was not concrete. He heard a roar as something huge and green slammed into him from the side and blacked out again.

Clint awoke again in Avengers Tower medical. He groaned; medical was the worst. He tried to push himself up to sit and faltered at the pain in his elbow followed by a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t get up, idiot,” said Natasha’s voice. He laid back but looked over to glare at her. Her returning glare was unimpressed.

He rolled his eyes. “What’s the damage?”

She sighed. “Well, there’s the concussion-”

“Knew that one,” he interrupted.

“You broke your left pinky, busted your lip, broke your nose, and road rashed your entire front on the building you jumped into the side of.” She paused, presumably for dramatic effect. “And then your elbow was sprained and four ribs bruised when Hulk caught you and crashed through the side of a different building.” She looked at him like all this was in any way his fault.

“I didn’t have a choice!” he told her belligerently. “If I hadn’t jumped, I’d have been crushed under a building, not just smacked into the side of one.”

“You had time to wait for retrieval,” she told him, sounding tired. “That building didn’t collapse immediately.”

“How was I supposed to know?” he asked. “I acted on impulse…”

A fond smile flashed briefly across her face. “I’m glad you’re ok, moron. Don’t do it again.” With that she got up and left.

Clint took another involuntary nap and when he woke, the light was off and it was quiet. Ah, good, he thought, time to bust out of here. He pushed himself gingerly to his feet, thanking whoever was listening that his feet and legs were uninjured, and slipped quietly out of his room.

Straight into Steve. “Ouch!” he winced as all of his shredded skin throbbed at once.

Steve put a steadying hand on his shoulder and fixed him with a disappointed look. “Clint,” he sighed. “You should be resting.”

“I was, um…” What excuse would Steve not make him get back in the bed for? Oh! “I was just going to check on Bucky,” Clint lied quickly and was rewarded when Steve’s face softened. He was hopeless where Bucky was concerned.

“Oh, well,” Steve started and he looked worried. “Actually, Bucky’s been really on edge since we left yesterday for the alarm.” He looked a little guilty. “If you’re sure you’re up for it, I’d really appreciate if you could try to help him calm down?” It came out a bit of a question and Clint was immediately worried too. He didn’t want Bucky to stress over them.

“Yeah, of course.”

Steve hovered while Clint limped to the elevator and tried to help him out when it came to a stop. “Nothing wrong with my feet, Cap,” he said and put a restraining hand on Steve’s shoulder while he wrinkled his nose a the omega-needs-protecting scent coming off of Steve. “Promise. Skin just stings.”

“Sorry,” Steve muttered and took a step away to open the door for him. Clint rolled his eyes.

When they entered the room adjacent to Bucky’s, he shot to his feet and was at the divider faster than Clint could track.

“You’re hurt,” Bucky accused and Clint chuckled. 

And then winced. “Maybe a bit.”

Clint heard Steve sigh beside him before Bucky turned to look at him.

“Steve,” Bucky said calmly. “I need you to let me out.” Clint’s eyebrows flew up in shock, making his reset nose twinge in pain.

“Uh, what?” was all Steve came back with.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Look, you told me you were thinking about doing it soon.” He glanced significantly at Clint. “You need to let me out.”

“I’m ok with it,” Clint told Steve and then shrugged, wincing when it hurt his raw skin. “I trust him,” he added when Steve still looked unsure.

Steve set his shoulders and nodded. “You’re sure you’re ok with both our scents now?” he asked Bucky.

Bucky rolled his eyes impatiently again. “Punk, I know what you smell like.”

Steve let out a huff of a laugh and walked over to the door in the wall. He set his hand on a biometric scanner and then turned the old school rotating locking mechanism that was too heavy for anyone but Steve or Tony in the suit.

Bucky approached the door slowly and then took only one step over the threshold when Steve opened the door all the way. He hesitated and looked up at Clint.

Clint was hit with a wall of overwhelming worried-alpha scent and his knees buckled. Holy shit.

Bucky bounded across the room and was in front of Clint before he could blink. He reached hesitant hands out and placed them gently on Clint’s shoulders. “Are you ok?” Bucky asked him gently. 

Clint took a deep breath and practically melted. He’d never smelled anyone so good. So right. So his. He stepped forward into Bucky’s space laid his head on Bucky’s shoulder to press his face into his neck. He thought he may have moaned but he wasn’t sure.

Bucky froze in front of him for only a moment before he cautiously wrapped his arms around Clint in a soft embrace. Clint sighed happily and nuzzled into his alpha’s neck. All his pain took a backseat to the new feeling of contentment that spread through him.

Steve cleared his throat somewhere behind Clint but he ignored him. “Uh, well,” Steve said awkwardly. “I think everything’ll probably be fine here then…” Clint felt Bucky nod. “If you need me,” Steve continued. “Just let JARVIS know.”

“Ok,” Bucky responded and Clint heard Steve turn and leave.

“Clint,” Bucky said gently. Clint hummed. “Are you hurt?”

Clint blinked when he realized he’d all but forgotten his myriad injuries. Bucky pulled away a bit and took Clint’s face between his hands to peer into his eyes. The metal hand was chilly.

“Nothing I won’t recover from,” Clint told him, already resenting the small space between them. Bucky smiled ruefully. “Already feel better though,” Clint told him with a meaningful look.

Bucky looked surprised. “You smell… happier,” he said uncertainly. 

“Am,” Clint told him simply and wrapped the arm not in a sling around Bucky’s waist. “It’s you.” Clint wasn’t sure exactly what he meant but was pleased when Bucky’s scent went all protective and proud.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Clint again and then gently pulled him down into Clint’s armchair to sit in his lap. Clint’s ribs protested loudly during the motion but settled down when Clint relaxed into Bucky’s hold. He buried his face in Bucky’s neck again and inhaled deeply.

“Can’t believe how good you smell,” he said dreamily.

Bucky’s scent ratcheted up again as he chuckled. “I’ve had similar thoughts about you,” he murmured. “Thought it was just a side effect of the repression drug withdrawal at first but then it didn’t stop.” He rubbed his right hand up and down Clint’s back soothingly.

“It’s not?” Clint managed to ask around the drugging scent at Bucky’s neck.

“Don’t think so,” Bucky told him. “I remember a lot more now. From before.” He swallowed. “I can’t remember an omega ever smelling like you do.” He brushed his face across the top of Clint’s head and inhaled. Clint felt all Bucky’s muscles go lax. 

“This mean I get to keep you?” Clint asked and then grinned when Bucky let out a sharp bark of laughter. His scent was fond, possessive. Clint liked it.

“Only if I get to keep you too,” he said and Clint scoffed.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to get rid of me now,” Clint told him. “I’ll be addicted to you in short order.”

Bucky stiffened and his scent took on a distinctly aroused smell. Clint stamped on the part of him that wanted to respond immediately and poked Bucky in the ribs. “Not like that!” he said and looked up as Bucky flinched away from his hand. Bucky grinned at him. “I can’t exactly move around a lot like this.” He gestured to his face and sling.

“Although,” he said thoughtfully, “once my ribs heal up in a couple weeks or so, well, it’ll probably be about time for a heat.”

Bucky’s grin disappeared and his eyes got all dark as his scent almost overwhelmed Clint with desire. Clint held his breath until Bucky visibly reigned himself in.

Bucky groaned and dropped his head. “You’re gonna kill me, darlin’.”

Warmth spread through Clint’s chest at the endearment. “Nah,” he said and pressed a small kiss to the crown of Bucky’s head. “Two weeks ain’t that long.”


	5. Warm You Up

Clint jerked upwards as Lucky used him as a springboard to leap off the couch. “Oof.” He rubbed his belly and glared after the dog.

He ran straight for the door though which meant Bucky must be home and Clint smiled before grabbing his hearing aids off the coffee table. He got them in and turned on just in time to hear Bucky greet Lucky and shut the door. When Bucky made it around the corner of the entryway though, he was scowling and his nose was bright pink.

“Hey,” Clint said and smiled at his boyfriend. “What’s up?”

Bucky kicked out of his boots and unwound a scarf from around his neck. “It is too fucking cold outside, that’s what’s up,” he grumped.

Clint chuckled at him. The Winter Soldier Murder Eyes that used to make him so nervous, he now found ridiculously adorable. “Aw, the poor baby,” he said teasingly.

Bucky glared at him before stripping off his huge winter coat and grabbing Clint’s hoodie from the armchair to pull over his head. A small thrill still went through Clint whenever he saw Bucky in his clothes. Which was probably the reason for the next stupid thing that came out of his mouth.

“Why don’t you come over here so I can warm you up?” he asked and waggled his eyebrows.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him before an absolutely wicked smile crossed his face. There was no time for Clint to take it back before Bucky was across the room and had pounced on top of him. Clint started to form a protest but then just screeched as the cold metal of Bucky’s left hand pressed under his shirt into the naked flesh of his belly.

“No!” Clint shrieked, trying to push him off. “No! Cold! It didn’t mean it!” Lucky barked at them; possibly in sympathy.

Bucky cackled and stretched himself to lay his full weight completely on top of Clint. “Aw, but darlin’,” he said as Clint completely failed to push him away, “you offered to warm me up.”

Clint’s hands scrabbled at Bucky’s shoulders as he tried to flinch away from the frigid metal. “I didn’t mean it,” he all but wailed. “Not the goddamn fucking ice hand!” He flinched again as Bucky stuck his cold nose into Clint’s neck.

Bucky moved the hand around to Clint’s back, obviously making a sadistic point, and Clint whined at him. Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss against his jaw. “What if I make it up to ya?”

Clint perked up. The hand was already much, much warmer. “Pizza and a blowjob?” he asked hopefully and Bucky laughed.

“Sure, darlin’,” he nuzzled at Clint’s neck. “I imagine that’ll warm us both up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s commented! Your kind words give me the warm fuzzies!


	6. Wolves in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werewolf AU.  
> **Warnings for death of bad guy. It's not very graphic but proceed with caution.**

Clint tried desperately not to whine as he pelted through the forest as quickly as his injured hind leg would allow. The bite mark burned though and his leg threatened to crumple with every step he took; he was sure some whimpering at least escaped him. He had to keep pressing on though. Barney and Jacques were right behind him and if they caught him… well, he didn’t want to think too hard about what they’d do to him.

What a shit day to piss off the rest of his pack. Clint knew he was annoying and he usually wouldn’t dare antagonize them on a full moon night but this time, they’d gone too far. If only they could’ve waited a few days before telling him they needed him to kidnap someone’s kid. Then he could’ve told them they were being assholes and could shove it and they could’ve roughed him up some like normal people. But no, it was full moon and they were howling for his blood.

They were only a couple yards behind him now at most but if he could just make it across the creek, he might be safe. There was one small creek deep in the woods that no one in the pack dared cross. They didn’t know exactly what was in there but the general consensus was that it was haunted. There was more than one story of wolves venturing too deep into the woods and disappearing.

Clint slipped and almost fell around a corner before skidding into the creek. Oh thank God. He felt a second of intense relief before jaws closed around his already throbbing hind leg. He let out a startled bark before trying to scrabble forward into the creek and twist his leg out of the vice grip on it.

He thought he might make it for a second before a second set of jaws slammed into him from the side and clamped around his neck. He shook and whined while trying to kick at one attacker with his free leg and claw the other with his forepaws. His struggles seemed hopeless.

He twisted desperately to see that Barney had a hold of his leg which meant that it was Jacques’s fangs piercing into the back of his neck. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He may have had a chance if his brother had pinned him but Jacques was merciless. Clint felt the panic starting to rise in his chest. His lungs felt like they were being squeezed and he struggled to breathe. He was about to die. Jacques would rip him limb from limb.

A whining cry escaped past Clint’s teeth and he thrashed violently. If he could just twist away, the creek was right there…

A hair raising growl made Jacques stiffen and Clint felt Barney’s grip on his leg lift up. Clint tried to look around for the source but stilled when the teeth on his neck sliced into him further.

The growling continued and Clint perked his ears towards very faint sounds of movement just beyond where he could see, in the direction of the creek. Suddenly, Jacques released him and Clint staggered to the ground. As Jacques began to growl his warning in return, Clint carefully turned to see the largest wolf he had ever laid eyes on.

The newcomer was massive and pitch black and angry and smelled distinctly of were. Despite his pain and fear, Clint couldn't help but be a little impressed. This wolf was even bigger than Jacques and definitely looked like he could take him, no problem.

Which probably meant it would be a good idea to get out of the way. Clint shifted and tried to get his paws under him to slink away but faltered and whimpered at his injured hindpaw. The newcomer’s ears went flat to his skull and he crouched slightly in a way that clearly said to back off.

Jacques growled in response before turning to glance at Barney and step over Clint towards the black wolf. Barney shifted forward as well and together, they stalked the black wolf, closing in on him from two sides.

Clint looked wildly between the three of them before making a very stupid decision. He lurched forward and clamped down on Jacques’s hindpaw with his teeth. When Jacques cried out and turned to snap at Clint, the black wolf lunged. He covered several feet in a single bound and his massive jaws clamped around Jacques’s throat.

Before Barney had time to do anything but freeze from shock, the black wolf turned to look at him pointedly, completely ignoring Jacques’s struggles. Clint watched as the black wolf made eye contact with his brother and then very deliberately tore out Jacques’s throat.

Clint flinched and whined a bit, suddenly afraid for his brother’s life but Barney turned tail and fled. And the black wolf seemed content to let him. Clint looked around to see him sloshing his muzzle around in the stream as if to wash off the blood. He felt a heady sense of relief; at least this wolf wasn’t into cannibalism. He’d heard rumors before of crazed loners.

When he was done, the black wolf looked up at Clint and tilted his head. Clint huffed in response; he wasn’t sure if he could walk. He steeled himself and then pushed up onto his forepaws. So far, so good. He slowly continued his way up and made it to standing on three legs. When he gingerly put some weight on his injured leg though, it immediately gave and he almost hit the ground again.

Clint whined and looked up to see the huge black wolf cautiously approaching him. When they were almost nose to nose, Clint decided to take a huge gamble. If he’d wanted to, this wolf would've killed him already, so Clint slowly tipped his head to bear his throat.

There was a nerve-wracking moment where Clint was sure he was about to die before the other wolf leaned in and simply sniffled him. Clint sagged in relief. Then the black wolf moved up next to him and pressed their bodies together, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. He huffed and leaned gently into Clint until Clint leaned back against him. Then he picked up his front paw and placed it on the ground in front of him, prompting Clint to start moving forward.

It was shuffling and awkward but, leaning against the other wolf, Clint was able to make it over to the creek. He took a much needed drink before the black wolf urged Clint to cross the shallow water with him and they headed into the woods. Clint did not look back at Jacques’s now human body.

After a mile or so, Clint was aching and trying his hardest not to whimper but he was pretty sure his new friend could pick up on how much he was hurting. The black wolf huffed encouragingly at him occasionally but gently urged him onwards. Eventually though, the black wolf slowed to a stop and shifted slowly away from Clint, leaving him standing by the base of a large tree.

Clint watched on three paws while the other wolf grasped a large branch in his jaws and shifted it enough to reveal a small den dug into the ground beneath a tree root. Clint would’ve smiled in relief if he hadn’t had a muzzle at the time.

The black wolf came back to his side to help him to the edge of the den and then jumped lightly down the small decline. Clint made the wolfy equivalent of a raised eyebrow at him. The black wolf huffed in amusement before laying down at the bottom of the slope.

It seriously looked like he wanted Clint to slide down it and land on him. Clint waited a moment to make sure he was reading this right and then mentally shrugged before carefully slipping down the slope and landing sprawled across his friend.

The black wolf rolled out from under him and gave him an amused look before nosing at him until he crawled farther into the little den. When he was sufficiently sheltered by the small overhang, Clint gave up moving anymore that night and flopped down on his side and panted. Not only did the back of his neck feel raw and his hind leg skinned, but now his hips and other hind leg ached from awkwardly doing the work meant for two legs.

Clint yelped and jerked when something rasped over the wound on his leg. He whipped around to see the huge black wolf crouched down, seemingly licking Clint’s wounds. That was… Well. Huh.

Clint carefully settled back down and laid his head on his forepaws so he could see the other wolf from his right eye. He was used to licking his own wounds, literally and figuratively, and to have someone else care for him… he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

It didn't take long for the black wolf to clean all the blood and dirt from Clint’s leg and by the time he'd finished, Clint was feeling much more relaxed. More relaxed than he'd felt in days really. Since before finding out about his pack’s newest scheme.

So when the black wolf cautiously approached him and bent to sniff at Clint’s neck, Clint didn't even flinched. He rolled his head a bit and closed his eyes comfortably as the other wolf laid out beside him and began to clean his neck. He drifted off to sleep pressed up against a warm body and the quiet sounds the black wolf made cleaning him up.

Clint woke slow and groggy as he usually did after a full moon. He felt like there was cotton in his head and his eyes refused to open just yet; though he could see weak sunlight through his eyelids. He swallowed and shifted his legs around a bit remembering the new bite mark he'd likely have in his calf.

Someone behind him murmured sleepily and an arm that Clint was just realizing was slung around his middle tightened. Clint stilled and willed his fuzzy brain to put together the pieces.

“Still moon hungover,” said a gruff voice behind him. “Freak out later.”

The voice sounded pleasantly familiar and Clint wholeheartedly agreed with it. He was still too fuzzy to work out who exactly he was with or even where he was so he just snuggled into the broad chest behind him and started to drift back to sleep. It wouldn't be the first time Clint’d woken up in a stranger's bed after a full moon, after all. A stranger. Like the black wolf that'd saved him last night. Aha, his brain sleepily supplied, the black wolf.

Clint woke up again an indeterminate amount of time later feeling much better. He stretched all his limbs, feeling a slight pull on his wounds, and immediately registered that there was no longer a firm solid body pressed up against him. He peeled his eyes open slowly and was met with quite a pretty sight.

The man who had obviously been the massive black wolf was sitting propped up against the side of the den buck-ass naked. And what a sight he made. His long dark hair brushed his chiseled and stubbled jaw line, his shoulders and pecs were exquisitely muscled, and his strong thighs briefly made Clint picture his head between them.

Clint shook his head and raised his eyes to meet the guy’s amused storm grey ones. “Uh, hey,” he croaked out.

The corner of the guy's mouth lifted in a smile. “Mornin',” he answered back.

Clint pushed himself up to sit. “Thanks for, you know, saving my life last night.” He ducked his head and lowered his eyes. Which was exactly the wrong move this morning; sitting up, Clint had an excellent view of the guy’s crotch. And speaking of excellent…

“Sure,” the guy said and Clint jerked his eyes back upward. “Name's Bucky,” he continued with a smirk that said he knew where Clint had been looking.

Clint tried not to blush. “I'm Clint.”

“How’d you feel?” Bucky asked him and Clint stretched his whole body to take stock. He could feel new scabs pulling on his calf and neck but, overall, not too bad. He'd definitely had worse.

“Better than expected,” Clint told him and looked up to catch Bucky’s eyes wandering over his own naked body. He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

Bucky didn't look a bit sheepish. “You got anywhere you need to be?” he asked.

Clint sighed. “Nah,” he said. “I imagine I'm out of the pack for good after what happened last night.” Bucky's expression turned sympathetic. Clint shrugged. “Don't worry about it. I'm done with that bunch of criminals anyway.”

“Well,” Bucky said slowly, “how about you let me buy you breakfast?”

Clint raised his eyebrows but the man seemed sincere. “Yeah alright,” he said. “‘S only fair anyway. Usually I make a guy take me out to eat before I sleep with them.” Clint grinned at Bucky cheekily.

Bucky looked at him bemused. “This ain’t a date,” he said and Clint felt his face start to fall in disappointment. “When I take you on a date,” Bucky continued quickly, “you'll know about it.”

Relief flooded through Clint followed quickly by excitement and he smiled wide across the tight space at Bucky. “I look forward to it then,” he said and winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!  
> -k


End file.
